


An Actor, John. Really?

by Sherlock1110



Series: Random one shots [11]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, mentions of the Hobbit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-07-22 18:38:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7449880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlock1110/pseuds/Sherlock1110
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock's home alone and bored so he watches tv. A film, to be precise. The Hobbit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Actor, John. Really?

“Oi, Sherlock!”

The detective jerked awake in his chair, his undrunk coffee spilling over his lap. He was lucky it had been a few hours and the contents of the mug had been cold.

“God damnit, John!”

The doctor snatched the mug from him. “It's hardly my fault you fell asleep. And how are you tired anyway? You actually slept last night.”

The other man scowled. “So… you nap in the day all the time.”

John sighed. “What have you been doing today then?” He asked walking back through to the kitchen with Sherlock's mug. “I suppose you want another?”

“Yeah, since you made me spill the last one over my dressing gown.”

John rolled his eyes and flicked the kettle on.

Sherlock joined him, wrapping his arms around from the back. “As for today, I watched a film.”

“You? Watching tv?”

“Is that a problem?”

John shrugged, spinning around so he could peck his boyfriend on the cheek. “What are you looking at me like that for?”

“Curious.”

“Back to the one word answers again, are we?”

It was Sherlock's turn to shrug. He watched as the doctor dealt with the two mugs, filling them up and ditching the tea bags in the bin.

He pressed one mug into Sherlock's hands, to see the younger man still giving him that look.

“What is it, babe? That looks weirding me out.”

“I like to think I can deduce absolutely everything about you. I know you had cornflakes on weetabix this morning, which even by my standard that is absurd. I know it's been a trying day at work, some awkward patients and some you've just wanted to shout at-”

“Alright, Sherlock, get to your point.”

“I never saw you as an actor.”

John's eyes widened. “What?”

“It's not something I could deduce about you. Everything else. Afghanistan… ex-army doctor… everything. Except that.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You haven't asked what film was on.” He nodded through the open door towards the tele.

“And?”

“The Hobbit, John. In his little hobbit house.”

John swallowed hard and sunk to the chair at the table.

“I…” he didn't know what to say or how to say it.

“It's a really cute little hobbit house. Were you acting or were you genuinely scared of Dumbledore?”

John scowled. “It wasn't- yes, it's acting. And it's Gandalf, you berk.”

Sherlock burst out laughing, “getting all protective over the fake wizard. You look a bit like you did last week when I jumped down off that bus.

“It's not me. In that film.”

This time Sherlock put his mug down and started crying tears of laughter. “You walked like you had springs in your shoes. All hoppity as you jumped about.”

“Sherlock-”

“And you don't want any adventures? Please, it was like you were calling out to me. Adventure is what you live for, was it a cry for help?”

“Bilbo ended up on an adventure!”

“He ended up in a tree, John.” Sherlock burst out laughing again. “Running away from the fake wolf things.”

“It's. A. Film. They are not fake in the film.”

“And that guy… riding the weird wolf thing. It looked like the night king on a direwolf.”

The doctor wanted to argue some more but froze. “That's twice.”

Sherlock's piss take session was brought to an abrupt halt. “Huh?”

“Twice. That's twice you've referenced something that isn't The Hobbit.”

Sherlock shrugged. “So?”

“You hate it when I watch Game of Thrones. In fact you go mental and call it midget porn! There isn't even any midget porn in it!”

“There's a midget though, a very clever midget.”

“And Harry Potter? Why are you suddenly so interested in that?”

“Well… I read.”

“No you don't.”

“I do. You have no idea what I get up to all day while you're off doing boring things.”

“Work, Sherlock. I go to work. To pay the bills.” He threw his hands up in exasperation.

“It's boring.”

“And I do know what you get up to all day. You shoot the bloody walls with my gun.”

“You hid it.” He scowled, picking his mug back up again.

“You were scaring Mrs. Hudson.”

The detective back tracked a moment. “Hang on, what do you mean it isn't you?”

“Now you get it. There's a member of my family I've never told you about.”

The younger man closed his eyes for a moment, thinking. “A brother?”

“My twin. Identical in every way.”

“Then how did-”

John walked through to the sitting room and Sherlock followed intently focused on him without partaking in sex for a change.

“We were separated at birth. It's why I'm not close to Harry, I went with my dad. Martin and Harry went with mum.”

Sherlock opened and closed his mouth for a moment. “Why didn't you ever tell me?”

“Would you have cared?” He asked almost sarcastically.

“I… well, yes. You're my boyfriend, have been for over 3 years. Of course I would have cared.”

John nodded once, “well, I'm sorry then.”

“He needs to come over for dinner. I need to talk about that hobbit house.”


End file.
